


Petrichor

by Lumieerie



Category: The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Canon Divergent, Companion Bond Feelings, Crying, Cuddling, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Karma - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Making Up, Near-Death Experience, Pet Names, Promises, Set before the series starts, Storms, Strained Relationship, Talla bond, The reminder that Companions are human, canon adjacent, distancing, mentions of whipping, mytower, references to Brand's whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumieerie/pseuds/Lumieerie
Summary: No wonder Mayan had walked out on him, anger burning and refusing to apologize. He was ashamed to be Anton's Companion.
Relationships: Mayan Saint Joshua/Lord Tower | Anton Saint Joshua
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Verloria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verloria/gifts).



> Petrichor  
> N.  
> A pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.
> 
> THIS FIC HERE IS DEDICATED TO Cyanide in the discord!! I promised them some mytower angst and I /gave them mytower Angst/  
> It is also largely inspired off of [THIS PICTURE](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/681303227945582622/735717893471469608/38f6d5868807d8077394410a53456f042980fbfa.png) and also by Luci in the discord!  
> 

Anton blinked, eyes wide as his fingers ghosted his cheek. Slowly, he turned his head toward his assailant and stared at Mayan. He could feel his Companion’s anger as it filtered through the bond. It was a burning sensation and if the collision of fist-to-cheek hadn’t been enough, the glare in Mayan’s eyes emphasized why he was mad. “They needed to be taught a lesson,” he said.

“No,” Mayan said harshly. “They did not. All you have done is broken what little trust they had for you.” He gestured to the closed door where Rune had dragged his half-beaten Companion, Brand, out of the room. He clenched and unclenched his fist.

One of Anton’s eyes twitched as he listened to Mayan. Incredulity gnawed at his insides at Mayan’s show of defiance. Mayan was supposed to understand him. He was meant to work alongside Anton, not stand against him.

“He assaulted my son,” Anton replied icily. “If I am going to be generous and offer him shelter, then he will-” His words were cut short when Mayan narrowed his eyes.

“He was protecting his Scion-” Mayan set his jaw. “- from your piece of shit son who can’t keep his hands to himself and harassed a guest. A guest who you promised to protect. Though, I guess you don’t keep promises anymore, do you?” Though that was the end of the question, Mayan tilted his head back toward the door and implied _something more_ than just Rune and Brand.

The room ran cold. Atlantean law held strong when it came to promises. They were just as sacred, just as important, as oaths and Anton had sworn to protect Rune Saint John. He’d sworn to Rune’s own father, the last Lord Sun. What Mayan implied…

Lightning flashed behind Anton’s eyes. “Mayan.” Anton started. “You will not speak to me that way.”

“You will not harm another Companion.” His dark eyes burned with warning. Not many people had the guts to stand up to an all-powerful Arcana, but Mayan had trained with Anton his whole life. He was the only one who knew how to handle him. He’d seen Anton when he was the executioner for Empress and Emperor, but his actions against Brand were uncalled for. “If you can’t see that he was fulfilling his purpose then-” Mayan stopped himself. He exhaled, then he turned on his heels and walked away.

Waiting until the door slammed shut behind Mayan, Anton let out a long breath. No Atlantean dared turn their back on Lord Tower- except for Mayan, whose anger surged as hot as the Tower’s own lightning as it coursed through their Companion bond. Though Mayan was now further away from him, their bond still thrummed as if it had never left the room. It would be quite some time until the two of them made their peace.

At first it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. Aside from the simmering anger and closed off bond, he and Mayan were both busy people. There were days where they rarely saw each other. But by the end of the third day, Anton knew this wasn’t just a simple matter of scheduling and busy lives- even the security check-ins had come from Mayan’s assistant rather than Mayan himself. That irritated him.

In all their lives, he and Mayan had never had an argument that lasted this long.They always came back to each other and apologized at the end of the day. Anton remembered then how much he used to loathe fighting with Mayan. That knowledge needled at the back of his head as he swirled the ice in his drink, lips pursed in deep thought.

Anton had offered Rune and Brand shelter after the fall of the Sun Throne; Brandon repaid Anton by attacking his son. The punishment was justified. Anton had done what he needed to do. Though, if someone asked, Anton didn’t think he could say it was the right thing.

Damn this! He was Arcana. He didn’t have time to doubt his actions. It was done with and both Rune and Brand had learned their lesson. Yet, even now, he second guessed himself. He pushed his chair back and stared down at his drink.

Would this have affected him if someone who was not Mayan had been the one to complain? No. Would this have affected him if he were a Companion and not an Arcana? He knew the answer to that too. _Yes_. Companions were a vital part of Atlantis and to the Arcana. In having Brand whipped, Anton had not only betrayed his own Companion, but all of the Companions of Atlantis. He had betrayed the trust of the boys he had taken in and Mayan, who had been by Anton's side through everything, had been forced to watch another Companion be tortured.

No wonder Mayan had walked out on him, anger burning and refusing to apologize. He was ashamed to be Anton's Companion. Arcana Law might be old in tradition but this was New Atlantis and maybe that meant change was meant to affect this too.

He stood off of his chair and smoothed his suit down. Yes, change was needed but speculation wasn't enough to kickstart it; however, it was enough to point Anton in the right direction. First, he needed to do something about his son. He had wrongly let Dalton off with a warning and punished the wrong party. Then he would need to… There was no making this up to Rune and Brand, but he could think of something to start a long road to forgiveness.Then there was… Mayan.

He turned toward his office window and leaned against it. He counted the rain drops as they landed on the window and then raced each other to the bottom. Gently, Anton placed a hand on the glass and welcomed the cold feeling.

Anton always had control over his Aspect. He always willed it to wade in the background, to build up like a hurricane before he unleashed it on his enemies on the battlefield. He never used it seriously because the damage done from it would never be repaired. Strategic, his father once told him. Merciful, Mayan had corrected.

Mayan had tried to correct him before Brand’s punishment and then again after it was over. Anton hadn’t listened. Bitterness filled his mouth. He should have.

He no longer worked for the Empress and the Emperor. He was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be merciful like Mayan said. He was supposed to keep his emotions in check and make sure he didn’t hurt anyone without a reason. He was meant to be the Lord Tower who ruled over the Dagger Court with the intention of changing it for the better.

His command to have Brand whipped betrayed both that ideal and his own Companion's trust. His command broke a promise to his beloved friend who now rested in the River. His command sullied his image and Mayan's. His command shamed Mayan.

He closed his eyes and silently demanded the storm stay inside. He could fix this. He had to fix this. He _would_ fix this. But first, he needed to finish all his meetings.

Tomorrow, he promised.

Though when tomorrow came, it brought only disaster.

The day dragged on slowly, as if time wanted Anton to learn his lesson. Meeting after meeting, he sat impatiently and participated half-heartedly. He had been tempted to open his and Mayan’s bond just to check in, but an invasion of privacy was the last thing he should do right now.

Instead, Anton listened as a representative droned on and on about the new partnership he planned to enter in with Lord Judgement. He wished Mayan was here talking instead. Mayan’s voice was much more tolerable than- Anton glanced at his rep’s name tag- Vernon’s voice.

“What say you, Lord Tower?” Vernon asked calmly, his bright green eyes an emerald of excitement. He seemed way too excited for a man talking about business partnerships.

Well, at least somebody here loved their job. Anton nodded and stood from his seat, grabbing the laser-pointer from Vernon’s hands. Then he made his way to the center of the room and clicked a button, turning his attention to the smart board. He made sure the correct slide was displayed before he requested the attention of the room.

“Going into this partnership with Lord Judgement, I expect-”

The laser-pointer clattered to the ground, dropped in the same breath that Anton stopped talking. He clutched his chest in shock. In his life, he had been stabbed, beaten, and sent to the Dagger Court recovery ward many times. He had been scolded, reprimanded, and taught a lesson by his father and trainers. He had been mocked, scorned, and laughed at by his peers who thought he would amount to nothing. None of that compared to the feeling in his chest now.

Severed. The Companion bond between him and Mayan has just been severed. When closed, it mostly thrummed in the background, waiting patiently to be re-open. Almost like a phantom limb that always pushed its weight against their back. Now, it was gone. Not even faded. Not even reachable.

A void replaced Anton's heart. His throat closed and his body lost the ability to stand. All Anton could feel were the thoughts that raced in his head. Mayan's name. A question. A concerned feeling. The pit of anguish that gnawed at him.

Pain.

Emptiness.

Silence.

Anton Saint Joshua controlled the weather. He held power over the storm and bent it to his will. He housed thunder and lightning behind his eyes and understood the language of destruction like it was sheet music for his piano.

That said, Anton lost control.

White mist filled the room as Anton fell to his knees. The mist emitted from his body, bringing the temperature to unbearable cold. Anton lurched forward and opened his mouth, though no noise or substance came out. Instead, a silent wail escaped and the mist grew thicker. His body went limp and the last thing he thought before he dissolved was Mayan's name.

Time passed, but no Atlantean could say how long because fog covered half of New Atlantis. The fog harmed no one, but it crawled with four limbs and dampened the mood of anyone caught up in it.

No person's voice reached it and no actions stopped it. No Arcane attempts managed to break through either. The cloud paid no attention. No magic or science predicted which way it would go - it simply _searched_ to a whim or pattern no one could understand.

Misery echoed through the visible wind, full of loss and need. Anyone who listened could hear the harrowing, empty question in Old Atlantean. The question begged to know where _he_ was. The question brought tears to those who tried to answer.

No painter or photographer captured the cloud in action. Every attempt was met with either blurry photos or wrongly shaded hues. It was rumored that the cloud was Lord Tower, but that was absurd. Lord Tower never lost in control and he certainly wasn't a mist of despair. Anyone who tried to prove it, however, promptly disappeared.

All that existed in Atlantis in this frozen-time was a cloud that wept. If this moment were to be marked for history, it would be known as the Endless Sorrow.

The cloud passed over all of New Atlantis until it finally, _finally_ reached its destination and found what it was looking for. Then, as slowly as winds in the summer, the cloud began to dissipate. It rolled to a halt and its blinding white became translucent. Then it was gone.

What was left was a broken man who yearned for his Companion.

Mayan lay at the foot of some steps leading up to an abandoned temple. His clothing was tattered and he lay in a puddle of blood. Upon closer inspection, his arms were marked with cuts and bruises. It was almost as if he’d been meant to be some old sacrifice. His assailant hadn’t even had the decency to bury or burn his body.

Anton would have scoffed if it weren’t for the denial that overwhelmed him. He refused to acknowledge that Mayan lay lifeless. He had to be unconscious! There was no other option! Mayan was- Mayan had to be- Mayan couldn’t be-

He sank to his knees and reached for Mayan. He pulled Mayan into his arms and cradled him. “My,” he whispered. “Mayan please wake up.” His voice dropped to a low croak. He caressed Mayan’s cheek. “I can’t lose you.” The words came out in Old Atlantean. The old dialect always came easier when he spoke with Mayan. He just hoped it would reach Mayan and get him to stir.

Nothing.

Anger settled in as slowly as the coming tide. Whatever, _whoever_ did this would know why the fury of an Arcana was called divine. Nothing would stop his rage. He would avenge Mayan, rip them to shreds and scatter the pieces - if they weren’t already dead, they would be. He would -

He would . . .

The anger fled him - without Mayan he was a storm without lightning.

 _I_ _’ve failed you._ He thought. It cut him through to the core all over again, he had lived his whole life in synch with the man in his arms and now, before he had the chance to even apologize, everything had been cut short. He remembered the first time he trained with Mayan as children - the thrill of having his best friend by his side. The shared pain of the first time he had been hurt in a real battle and the worry that came with it. How every time he stored healing spells he hoped that they would be enough - or that he wouldn’t have to use them at all.

The memories flooded Anton's mind as if he were at the cinema. Battles. Laughter. Moments filled with chatter and dancing- Anton loved to dance with Mayan, especially back then when they weren't responsible for the Dagger Court. Days spent where they skipped rocks and talked about the changes they wanted to make. Meeting Lissa, the future mother of Anton's children but never the holder of his heart.

Growing up. Becoming Lord Tower. Becoming an executioner. Becoming a paragon who followed in his fathers' ruthless footsteps.

Losing Mayan.

Selfishly, Anton wished the River would take him instead. Anton knew himself to be a villain; Mayan had only ever done his job at Anton's side. Yet, now because of an argument and separation, he lay dead. He deserved more than a meaningless death brought on by Fate to mock Anton.

Lowering his head, Anton pressed his forehead against Mayan's and breathed out. "At least take me too," he whispered. "I can't live without you. Don't leave me behind, wasim." His voice faded with each word, becoming nothing but wind in the air. His stomach folded in with its grief, hurting with a visceral emptiness.

When Anton wept, it was as if a banshee’s cry were muted with water. Wet, messy, and as cold as the void, the tears streaked down and landed on Mayan. The irony that Anton’s final mark on Mayan would be his tears was not lost to him. Yet still he cried and cried.

“I’m sorry.” He hugged Mayan’s body as close as possible and repeated the words. “So sorry, My.” He rocked forward, mouth trembling with each open breath. Apologizing finalized it: Mayan was gone.

He moved to wipe his tears from Mayan’s face. It felt so cruel to see his tears on Mayan’s face- Anton’s grief like a mocking sign of -

Mayan’s lips parted and he coughed weakly, face lulling to the side. His nose brushed softly against Anton’s storm-dampened dress shirt. When his first breath came it felt as though it restarted Anton’s heart along with it. An exhausted, barely-there, feeling flickered through their bond, so faint that it could be missed- and that was all it took.

Emotion became action. In a spurt of adrenaline, Anton lifted Mayan and held him close. Mayan was taller than him and made balancing a little tricky, but damn it he was Arcana. He was Anton Saint Joshua and that little spark of life from his Companion was enough to move mountains. Enough to let Anton breathe again as he raced against time to a place where Mayan could heal.

The clock ticked, daring Anton to stop and let go of that growing hope. He ignored it and pushed on, mentally counting each minute that passed before he could get Mayan to the best hospital New Atlantis had to offer. He lost himself in the moment, focused only on carrying his Mayan to safety.

One moment he blinked and the next he was dazed, sitting next to Mayan’s hospital bed. He stared blankly at the hand he held, energy finally drained. It had happened so fast, but Anton had been just in time according to the doctors. No one dared ask him why he hadn't simply used a healing sigil: Anton didn't have the heart to embarrass himself and announce he'd used all his magic in his Aspect in his search for Mayan.

Mayan.

Anton trailed his eyes from his Companion's hand to his face. Mayan was alive. Karma had not won this battle and Mayan was alive and Anton was overjoyed and _Mayan was alive!_ Alive, but not better; but he was breathing and that’s what mattered most. He would be alright. He would be _alive_.

He reached through the bond, relieved to find it steadily growing. Though he could look at Mayan's heart monitor, Anton preferred feeling the Companion bond. A heart rate was just one indicator of life; the Companion bond was _everything_ that was Mayan. Feeling him through the bond brought comfort to Anton.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Mayan, I'm sorry. I know I've said this already, but I'm sorry. I was wrong to do that-" He stopped mid-breath. Then he exhaled once more, shoulders drooping. "My past as head executioner is not an excuse to torture young Scions and Companions. What I did to Brandon was unforgivable and I understand now how that hurt you and why you felt so betrayed."

"I might never be forgiven, but I can take strides to do better. To be better. Starting with an apology." He finally opened his eyes and brought Mayan's hand up from the bed. He brought Mayan's hand to his lips and kissed his fingers. Faintly, he felt something invisible reaching back toward him through the bond. "Come back to me, please," he begged quietly. "Even if you hate me forever. Even if you take up the mantle of head of security and treat me as nothing more than a charge, come back to me."

 _You're the most important connection in my life_ , Anton's words filled the silence, though they weren't spoken, just thought. Gratitude swept through the bond, drawing Anton’s attention back in shock. He stared at Mayan with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.

Mayan’s deep eyes stared back at him as he squeezed Anton's hand. "You're…" He trailed off, voice hoarse. "Too loud."

A rushed breath left Anton, it sounded almost like a disbelieving laugh. Those were not the first words he expected from Mayan, but they oddly felt fitting. He squeezed Mayan's fingers. "Sorry, My," he said.

Mayan grunted in response, then pulled his hand from Anton's grasp and lifted it to his Lord's cheek. Silent understanding passed between them, telling Anton that Mayan had been awake for the whole apology. Mayan purposefully ghosted his fingers over Anton’s skin, and smiled when Anton shivered. “You are not the monster the Courts make you out to be.”

"No," Anton agreed. "I was, however, on the path to proving them right. But you got me back on the right path.” He pointedly didn’t mention that it was karma and Mayan’s near-death that set him straight. “Thank you.”

“You’ll do better.” Mayan’s voice was stronger now, more pronounced.

“I will,” Anton nodded. Then he frowned. “What are you not saying?” He pressed, feeling around in their bond for what he’d missed. He found a hint of indignation and his frown deepened. He looked at Mayan and waited.

“You are my Lord,” Mayan started. “I was born and raised to protect you, Anton.” His eyes wandered the room for a moment before they landed back on Anton. His expression was a mixture of serious and sad. “Have I ever gone against you?”

No. Mayan had always stood by his side and helped him. Protected him. “No,” Anton echoed his thoughts. “You’re…” He allowed the words to fade and pursed his lips. Mayan was the perfect Companion, but he had not treated him like one. He swallowed. “I have acted against you.”

“You have.” Mayan pulled his hand away. He sat up and propped himself up against some pillows. Then he looked Anton hard. “The past is the past; it’ll never change, however, if you do that again-” He inhaled. “- I _will_ kill _you_.” He balled his fist in the sheets of his bed. “If it happens again, I will not hesitate.”

Mayan’s words were weighted, full of a bitter promise that neither of them wanted to come to fruition. Killing Anton meant that the centuries they'd rejuvenated away would rapidly catch up to Mayan and kill him too, but that's how serious his conviction toward their bond to each other is. Anton accepted it for two reasons. The first was because he was already ready and willing to die from Mayan, be it by his hand or not. The second was because no other would dare even think of threatening Anton like that. Only Mayan was allowed to get away with this.

“It won’t,” Anton answered, voice echoing with the strength of a vow. “It won’t. There won’t be a next time, I swear it.” Outside the wind raged and a roll of thunder announced itself to the world. Anton’s words symbolized by exhausted power.

Their Companion bond was overloaded with different emotions: relief, love, determination, and anger. It washed over the two of them and sparked rapidly. It felt as if electricity coursed through the two of them, though it was not unpleasant. It was warm and buzzed under their skin almost as if it'd already been passed between the two. Almost like -

“Mayan,” Anton breathed. He watched as threads of blue energy flickered under Mayan’s skin. Then, just as fast as it had arrived, it was gone and Mayan was healed.

“Anton,” Mayan echoed, eyebrows scrunching with a moment of confusion.”What did you - did we just -?”

A startled laugh bubbled up in Anton’s chest, and left his lips as more of a huff than a laugh as his eyes went wide. In all the centuries they’d spent together, there had always been a love between them but this here and now - there were no words for it.

“I’ve always wondered what it might be like.” He confessed, awed. Talla bonds were rare, after all, and Anton hadn’t even formed one with Lissa. Back when his father had been around, he had advised Anton to pretend to have a talla bond with Lissa- that it would be “good for their court.” Naturally, Anton set the idea aside and only ever occasionally daydreamed about what it would be like to have a real one with Mayan. 

Now he had his answer. Though, he could not believe their bond formed now of all times. This was a serious moment and Anton didn’t want Mayan to think that the talla bond belittled his feelings or-

“It’s funny how people call the great Lord Tower a stone wall,” Mayan mused, watching Anton with a half-smirk. “Yet here I am, watching you run your thoughts in anxious circles. Come here, wasim.” He made room on the bed for Anton to join him.

Hospital beds already weren’t made for Mayan’s tall build, but Anton climbed into the bed anyway. He barely had a second to get comfortable before Mayan wrapped his arms around Anton and pulled him close. Anton felt his shoulders relax. As excited as he was, his mind was still focused on Mayan and apologizing. He pressed his head into Mayan’s collar bone and sighed.

Mayan rubbed his back gently. "I know," he said. His fingers threaded through Anton's hair and he massaged his scalp.

"We should-" Anton began.

"-And we will," Mayan cut him off. "Later. Just stay with me awhile." He turned his head and kissed Anton's temple. "I'm still upset with you, but we will talk about it later. Right now I want just this."

Mayan only needed the weekend to recuperate, but Anton allotted a third day just so the two of them could plan their next steps moving forward. It was also an excuse to delve more into their newly formed talla bond.

On the third day, it was late morning when Anton stirred awake to the feeling of Mayan’s lips pressed to his cheek. He hummed at the sensation, feeling as if he were dreaming. For centuries, they had loved in secret, but now it was as if they were stepping into the light. His elation filled the Companion bond.

Mayan leaned over him and murmured a soft, “Me too,” right before he slid a hand under Anton’s head and tilted him so their lips could meet.

It was, by no means, their first kiss: that came clumsy and sweet long, long ago, but this was, in a sense, still a first. It stole all the breath from Anton’s lungs as his Companion- no, his talla claimed his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. Every word left his mind - it was just him and Mayan. They melted into each other as that one kiss wound into another.

“ _My talla_.” Soft laugh lines formed into the corners of Mayan’s eyes as he whispered it. He looked so beautiful when he was this happy.

“My talla.” Anton echoed it just before their lips met again. When they pulled apart, Anton settled back into the pillows with a soft sigh.

“That’s quite a heavy noise for someone who is supposed to have a day with nothing but _this_ planned for us.” Mayan said, bringing one hand to rest on Anton’s jaw, his thumb swept over it gently. “Tell me.”

He pushed a breath out. “I have a lot to do - things need to change, carefully but decisively. So much to be-”

“Anton, talla.” Mayan said, breaking the words before they became a rant. “We will. Together.”

A small smile touched his lips at “ _together._ ” Of course this would be a joint effort. It had to be if Anton wanted to do it right. “I’ll have you to keep me in check?”

“I’ll be by your side, every step.”

**Author's Note:**

> Huge shoutout, of course, to Egg, Strumie, and Mel as always for being both moral support and beta extraordinaires. I'd die without them.
> 
> Come join us at the [Scions of New Altantis Discord Server](https://discord.gg/znqswTE)! We're the official TTS discord server and love new people!


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